


The Death of Duty

by DeerWorks



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-06-26 14:54:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19770562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeerWorks/pseuds/DeerWorks
Summary: Westeros lives under the reign of King Brandon I Stark whilst Sansa Stark rules from the North and Jon Snow sulks away in beyond the wall. But something will force him to cross the Narrow Sea and venture to Essos.





	1. Chapter 1

TYRION

The bells. The bells ring every morning to awake him but all it reminds Tyrion of is the person he chose as his queen and what she did when those bells rang and the city surrendered. Thousands burned for no reason, and he just sat there and watched helplessly unable to do anything. Now here he is, Hand of the King trying to rectify all his mistakes. He rises out of his bed feeling the effects of the heavy drinking of the previous night. During the days he’s been sober for the most part but during the nights he drinks his sorrows away in the privacy of his chambers. He slowly put his clothes on and his Hand of the King pin. 

Opening the door, he was met with Bronn, his hand balled into a fist about to knock. “Took you long enough to wake,” he said. “We’re all waiting for you.” Tyrion closed his eyes and sighed but gave a nod and miserably walked his way to the small council room. Over the course of the past few weeks he was beginning to realize that Bran might not have been the wisest choice for the position of King. He was constantly being brutally honest to his subjects and occasionally refusing to attend to certain matters for reasons as he put it: ‘fate wills this to happen, I will not stand in its way.’ It was always left to Tyrion to attend to the matters in which the king would not and stand in the way of fate. 

Once they arrived at the small council room everyone was already there including the King. Bronn took his seat as did Tyrion and the meeting commenced. “Well first order of business, Ser Bronn.” Bronn turned his head to face Tyrion questioningly. “You have proven within the past few weeks to not be the best Master of Coin.” 

“Can’t argue with that,” Bronn responded. He seemed rather discontented with his position on the small council as all he really wanted was a castle, not the responsibilities that came with it. 

“We believe your abilities would be better suited towards Master of War,” Tyrion said.

“Well then I suppose my seat is over there,” he said rising to his feet and pulling out a chair at the other end of the table. 

“King Bran, I believe that the need for a Master of Whispers is unnecessary in light of your abilities.” Tyrion suggested and Bran nodded in agreeance. Tyrion turned his head to the empty seat next to the seat that belonged to Master of Coin. He turned his attention to Samwell Tarly who stood next to him. “Where is Ser Brienne?” he asked. 

“She has been falling sick as of late and will not be attending the small council meeting today,” Tyrion nodded and turned his attention back to the King. 

“Well we’re meeting with Yara Greyjoy of the Iron Islands to work out our alliance. Perhaps we should discuss that.” Bran nodded and the meeting went on. After the plan for the Iron Islands was laid out they moved on to other matters. “Have we finally located Drogon?” Tyrion asked and Bronn shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

“We lost sight of him a few days ago,” Sam mumbled. 

“How do you lose sight of a giant fucking beast like that?” Bronn asked as he started tapping his foot nervously. 

“I will find him in time, do not worry about him for now.” Bran said. His emotionless state often allowed Tyrion to completely forget he was even there as for the most part he just sat there at the small council meetings. 

“Well I can only hope that time is soon,” Tyrion said. The meeting adjourned and Tyrion left in a hurry to get back to drinking.

Once he arrived to his chambers he immediately grabbed a glass and poured himself his wine. Before he could begin drinking there was a knock at his door. Tyrion sighed but went to open it to find Bronn there once again. “Mind if I join you for a drink?” he asked. Tyrion welcomed him in and poured another glass for his friend as he joined him on his balcony overlooking the city. 

King’s Landing was far from full recovery from when Daenerys razed it to the ground but it was looked far better compared to the day it happened. “Glad I wasn’t here for that dragon,” Bronn said interrupting the silence and Tyrion’s thoughts. Tyrion didn’t answer and just stared into his drink not wanting to think about that day. 

“How do you feel about Bran being King?” Tyrion asked abruptly. 

“Is this a test?” Bronn asked raising an eyebrow. 

“I’m asking for your opinion not whether you’re planning on committing treason,” Tyrion corrected him. Bronn sat there for a few seconds pondering his answer before he came to a conclusion. 

“I must say, you could have chosen better.” Tyrion nodded in agreement. 

“I’m starting to think that too.” 

The two sat there for a few more seconds until Bronn looked at turned his attention back to his friend. He recognized that face. Tyrion had shown it multiple times ever since he became the Hand of the King. “You couldn’t have known,” Bronn said abruptly as if he read Tyrion’s mind. 

“Of course I couldn’t of known, nobody could have.” Tyrion responded. 

“Then why are you so glum?” Bronn asked. Tyrion took a moment to think about why it was exactly before he realized it. 

“I had been a cynic for my entire life. I never believed in anything, not even myself. And then there I was, believing in her.” He turned his attention back to the city that was still being rebuilt. “And look where it got me,” he said before gulping down the rest of his wine. They sat in silence for the rest of the time. But Tyrion didn’t mind, it was just nice to not drink alone this time.

  
  


SANSA

The day advanced as it had as normal. The North had prospered under its new independence with Sansa as its Queen. But the loneliness she would feel without her siblings was hurtful. Arya sailed west of Westeros and hasn’t been seen since, Bran is running a kingdom and even if they did have time to meet Bran isn’t exactly the best when it comes to conversation. And Jon rode beyond the wall to live out the rest of his life with the free folk. While he’s permitted visits every now and then she’s heard that he’s miserable most of the time. Well more miserable than usual. While she felt sorry for her brother she was glad that he was rid of that dragon queen. She knew Daenerys never cared about Jon and he was just a tool she used to get what she wanted. She would’ve killed him eventually with him being the rightful heir to the iron throne. Even still it hurt that they never saw each other.  _ Whatever happened to the pack survives? _ Sansa would ask herself on most days. Well now they’re not a pack, they’re lone wolves. The last time the pack was divided was the War of the Five Kings and that didn’t bode well for the Starks. Sansa could only hold out hope that history wouldn’t repeat itself.

  
  


JON

Life was far less comfortable up north of the wall. The Free Folk set course for the “real north” as they liked to call almost six months ago. They settled themselves at Hardhome which still suffered from the destruction from the massacre years ago. But the rebuilding was near complete, surveyed by Tormund. But something bothered him the entire time they were there. Jon hadn’t aided in the reconstruction or in anything in particular whilst they were there. Instead of staying the wooden homes down by the water he chose to place himself in a hut at the highest hilltop. Most of the time Tormund would bring food up to him but he’d never see him, just leave the food there. He knew he was at least alive because everytime he came up he’d see the food was finished and the sac he brought it in was left outside the hut on a peg.

Today Tormund had had enough. He’d spent his entire time up there sulking and that would never do anything good for him. He was gonna knock some sense into him or throw him right off the edge if that’s what it took to get him down there. He came to the tent and didn’t even bother asking permission to enter. When he came in what he saw was saddening. His hair was unkempt and all the furniture was strewn along the floors. A desk they made him to write seemed to be the victim of lots of carving, there was a large tree trunk in the corner that seemed to be dented halfway through and he could tell why. Jon was lying on the bed with tear stained cheeks and bloodsoaked hands. His Night’s Watch clothes were dirty and the hut reeked of dead bodies.

Tormund huffed after looking at the place and then turned his attention to the pathetic person he once called King. “You think she’d wanna see you like this?” he asked. 

Jon slowly turned his head as if just realizing that Tormund was there. “No,” he said. “But it’s not like she will ever see me again.” Tears began welling up once again in Jon’s eyes and Tormund rolled his head back in frustration. 

He strode over to the bed taking a seat at the edge to look at Jon better. “You can’t live your whole life up here,” he said. Jon grabbed his wineskin and chugged all the ale left in there. The Free Folk ale used to disgust him but now taste meant nothing to him. 

“I can try,” he said tossing the wineskin aside. Tormund sighed but stood up. 

“At least try coming down and walking around a bit,” he said, offering his hand. Jon hesitated for a moment but took it and came down.

  
  


SOMEWHERE IN ESSOS

The little girl ran through the hallways to find her. She ran past the doorways in a blur looking quickly in to them to see if she could find her. One doorway brought her to a stop and she looked inside to see the red priestess standing on the balcony in her usual red robe. “Kinvara!” The little girl screamed as she ran towards her. Kinvara turned and smiled embracing the young girl before releasing her. “Is it true?” the little girl asked. 

“Has the Lord of Light gifted someone with life once again?” Kinvara smiled at the little girl and nodded. “He has.” The little girl released and became excited. She always desperately wanted to meet someone who had returned from the dead. 

“Where is this person?” Before Kinvara answered something grabbed her attention in the room behind the little girl. 

“Behind you,” she said softly. The little girl turned and ran into the room to the woman standing in the middle. 

“Woah, you’re pretty!” she exclaimed. 

The woman smiled and bent down onto her knees. “You are quite beautiful as well,” she said. The woman seemed to have a fondness for children. She rose to her feet and looked to the red priestess. 

“How are you feeling today?” Kinvara asked. 

“Much better than the previous day,” the woman answered. “Thank you for everything you have done for me.” But Kinvara nodded in a way to say it is unnecessary to thank her. 

“It is my pleasure,” she said. “Daenerys Stormborn.”

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

DAENERYS

_You are my queen, now and always_

It was perfect, nothing was better than right now. She could have died right then and there and she would die a happy woman, oh how wrong she was. She felt the pain in her chest but she didn't back away immediately. She kept kissing him until the pain was so evident forcing her to stop. She looked down and saw a dagger sticking out of her chest, his hand on the hilt. She looked into his eyes, tears pouring out like waterfalls. She collapses as he holds her in his arms. _I love you._ He mouthed. 

She woke up breathing heavily in her bed. She looked down, the scar still there. She'd had the same dream every night ever since, it always ended the same. And she always woke up crying. _How could he?_ She thought every time. _How could he do this to me?_ Whenever she drifted back to sleep she didn't dream again for the rest of the night. But the memory would always be there. She didn't know what it was that day. She didn't know what happened. Daenerys felt she was in control but her actions weren't at all something she would do. She would never burn innocents for no reason. She would never justify any reasons for doing committing such horrible acts. She would wallow away as she's doing right now.

Morning came and the red priestesses brought her food. The food was always the best she had ever had. Perfectly cooked every time. When she wandered the streets she wore a hood to hide her snow white hair, not wanting the world to know she's alive. She would be kind to the people, give money to pour children, help elderly with their daily tasks. She would do anything to make up for everything she's done. But she would never be able to. Nothing she could do would ever be enough.

Every day at sunset she would stand in the open fields, eyes closed, desperately trying to summon him, her child. But Drogon would never appear, she could never feel his connection and every night she would go home without seeing him. And every night she would have the same dream. 

This morning on her way outside she saw a door open ajar. Being curious, she peeked inside slightly to see Kinvara, sitting in her dark room staring intently at a brazier. She knocked and without looking towards her Kinvara bid her enter. "What are you doing?" Daenerys asked.

Kinvara turned and smiled to her, then turned back to her brazier. "Visions in the flames," she said.

Daenerys took a few steps closer, even though she was now familiar with who the red priestesses are she was still not well informed on their culture. "What do they show you?" Daenerys asked. Kinvara rose from her seat and welcomed Daenerys to take her place.

"Have a look," she said. Daenerys was hesitant but took the seat. 

She stared as intently into the flames as Kinvara had. "What do you see?" Kinvara asked from behind her. Images started to somehow appear, not exactly images that came before her but she could somehow see it.

"I see snow, a village by the sea." Daenerys said continuing to study the image closer.

"Anything else?" Kinvara asked leaning slightly closer.

"The buildings are rather simplistic, they're either tents or wooden huts." The vision suddenly shifted to reveal more. "There's one hut that's far from the others, on a hill top." It's suddenly inside the hut and it's a mess, nothing is taken care of, clothes are strewn along the ground and there's a tree trunk in the corner beaten halfway through. But then she sees white fur along the ground. Ghost. Jon's dire wolf. But if Ghost is there then that should mean...

Surely enough she saw him. On the bed sobbing. The sheer sight of him brought tears to her eyes, she looked down to her chest where the knife entered her and then back to him. "Dany, I'm sorry." He sobbed out. "I wish I could take it back," he mumbled. "We should've just stayed at those falls, nobody would've ever found us." He could barely get out the final words as he started crying even more and soon enough it was too much for Daenerys to handle as she stormed out of the room and retreated to her quarters. 

When she was alone she curled up and tears began to fall. _How could you do this to me?_ She thought again. _How could I do this to you?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a short chapter so sorry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran discovers something, Jon receives news.

BRAN

Once his ravens had crossed the Narrow Sea they all diverged into different paths in search of Drogon. Each day Bran had searched for him and each day Bran had been unsuccessful. One raven flew over the ruins of Old Valyria but found nothing there once again. Many flew over the Dothraki Sea but found no trace. It was the one that flew over Volantis that made Bran stop. Drogon wasn’t in sight but something drew him to the city. He sent his raven down to perch on a nearby rail where he saw what was drawing him.

A woman was wandering the streets, offering food and money to poor children and playing in the streets with them. When he saw her face he knew exactly why he was drawn to here. Daenerys Targaryen is alive. Whilst she seemed peaceful she has been reborn again. Bran can see that her coin has been flipped once again and continues to teeter on the edge, and after everything that’s happened to her she won’t be stopped if she wished to burn the entire world.

When he warged out Tyrion was sitting beside him like he always did. “Call our banners,” Bran said.

“You’ve found the dragon?” Tyrion asked as he sat up from his chair and started slowly stalking towards him.

“Not exactly.”

  
  


JON

Jon finally agreed to attend the hunting trip. In all honesty it was probably good for him to do something to keep his mind off of her. It was really just him, Tormund, and Ghost. It wasn’t nearly enough to bring home enough food for everyone but it wasn’t really supposed to. This was about getting Jon out of his hut and to possibly enjoy his life to an extent.

Jon and Ghost sat behind a rock viewing a deer from behind while Tormund sat behind a rock in front of it. Once Jon gave him the nod Tormund ran out from behind his rock and charged the deer from the front causing it to run in the opposite direction towards Jon. Once it was close enough Jon and Ghost jumped out from behind the rock and cut the deer down.

Jon hauled it back behind him and towards Hardhome while Ghost went ahead to feed himself. For the first time in a long time Jon didn’t think about her, about her beautiful snow white hair and her loving purple eyes. Or the way she’d look at him every morning they woke up together on their boat. Suddenly he started to become sad again and Tormund noticed this and attempted to take his mind off it. “Tomorrow’s the day you’re allowed to visit home correct?”

Jon gave him a small but grateful smile and gave him a nod. “You must be excited to see your sister again.”

“I am, it has been quite some time,” Jon responded.

“Better clean yourself up, you look like a squirrel who just got right fucked by a bear.”

Jon finally gave him a genuine smile and even a real laugh, he hadn’t laughed in quite some time and it felt good to do it again. He hadn’t laughed in so long but this day really helped him take his mind off of everything that had been plaguing his mind since that terrible day.

That night he joined everyone for the nightly feast and Tormund attempted to make it clear to all the Wildling women that Jon wasn’t interested, but that didn’t stop a few brave souls from trying. But any woman who got too close was thankfully immediately warded off by Ghost.

Jon enjoyed that night, the deer that they caught was one of the best things he’d tasted in a long time and the entire night went by without a single thought of Daenerys.

He was awoken early the next morning by Tormund shaking his body around mercilessly. “Time to get you ready,” Tormund grunted as he held up a blade.

Jon nodded and rose to a sitting position so Tormund could shorten his hair. Once Tormund’s hard work was completed Jon made his way over to the water to observe how he looked and saw remnants of his old self. His raven black hair was curly and flowing, the same hair Daenerys loved running her hands through. He had a nicely trimmed beard on his hair, the same beard that Daenerys would brush her cheek against if it was itchy. But these memories for once brought a slight smile to his face when he thought about them.

Tormund was behind him holding a horse in place for him and Jon smiled gratefully. When he mounted it Ghost was quick to his side and they both rode off towards the faint image of a wall in the distance. He got a few waves from the people at Castle Black when he passed through and onward to Winterfell.

He took the route that his sister had instructed him to take as he rode towards his former home. Once he arrived, ,l’

\=the gates immediately opened as the guards seemed to recognize him. When he entered he immediately saw Sansa waiting for him alone, dressed in less fancy clothing than he would have expected. Her eyes seemed watery with unshed tears and she was wearing a toothy smile. Jon immediately hopped off his horse and ran towards her hugging her so tight he swore he was gonna break her ribs.

When they pulled away Jon gave her a quick kiss on her forehead. “I missed you,” Jon smiled.

“I missed you too,” Sansa sobbed. “Come, let’s get you some real food.”

Sansa lead Jon to the great hall where the typical food of the North was waiting at the head table. Jon sat with his sister and they talked and caught up on their lives.

“How is the North?” Jon asked.

“Good,” Sansa murmured with three lemon cakes shoved in her mouth. “We’re thriving under our new independence, we don’t have to worry about the complicated politics of the south.”

“And how is the south?” Jon asked.

Sansa stopped eating and pushed her food away a bit. “Not so good, Bran sort of fails to empathise with the people and it can lead to poor communication,” she said. “But it’s at least better than Cersei, absolutely nothing terrible has happened.”

“Well that’s good at least.”

“Well that’s enough about me, tell me how the real north is.”

“Cold,” Jon smiled. “But there’s absolutely zero politics I have to worry about there and you should know that I absolutely despise politics.”

“Yes I know,” Sansa laughed.

Ghost placed his head on Sansa’s foot as he lay under the table and snored. “I missed you too,” she said as she stroked the wolf’s belly.

“Your grace,” a guard entered the hall, interrupting them. “Lord Wyman Manderly has arrived, and there’s some ravens that require your attention.”

Sansa nodded and gave her brother an apologetic smile. “Thank you,” she said. The guard gave a quick bow and left. “If it’s not too much trouble could you retrieve the raven scrolls, I need to meet with Lord Manderly.”

Jon raised from his chair and Ghost joined him as he went to the tower. Winterfell had undergone very little change, just simple repair and the castle was restored to what it was as best as Sansa could. Walking through the castle grounds brought back many lost memories that made Jon smile to himself. He remembered everywhere, where he used to spar with Robb, where he would secretly teach Arya to spar with a sword, and where he broke his arm punching a tree he stubbed his toe on.

When he reached the tower he retrieved the scroll with the crowned direwolf on it, meaning it was from Bran. He knew this was for Sansa but seeing as he wouldn’t be able to see Bran he decided he would have a quick look at the scroll, just to read his brother’s writing.

_ Queen in the North, Sansa I Stark _

_ I summon your banners to the capital to venture across the Narrow Sea.  _

_ Daenerys Targaryen is alive. _

_ King Brandon I Stark _

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

BRIENNE

She had been on and off bed ridden for a fortnight, constantly nauseated and unable to do her job as Kingsguard. But still being the stubborn warrior that she was she refused to see the Maester, electing to believe it would be gone soon enough.

One of these days, however, she was so weak she was unable to get up from her bed to protest. Samwell did multiple tests and once he came to his conclusion he looked towards Brienne warily. "Um Ser Brienne."

"What is it, Samwell," she spat.

"When was the last time you um, had your moonblood?" Sam asked.

"What?" she said as she raised her head from the bed to look at him.

"I'm sorry but I am afraid that you are pregnant," Sam mumbled. "Could you tell me who the father might be so I may fetch him."

Brienne looked into the open space dumbfounded. The last and only man she laid with was Jaime, Jaime Lannister. She carried Jaime's child inside her, this child would grow up without a father. She didn't know anything about raising a child, and she was Kingsguard. The Kingsguard cannot have children. What was she supposed to do now that she everything had seemingly came crashing down around her.

JON

"So, what do you think?" Jon asked as he sat in his hut, his makeshift fire lighting the face of his friend after telling him about the letter he'd received.

"Are you sure he's right, that she's alive?" Tormund asked. He'd seen his friend raised from the dead but it didn't mean everyone needed to be brought back.

"If anyone would know it would be Bran," he said as he read over the letter one final time. As soon as he saw the letter he pocketed it immediately, not wanting Sansa to see it. Part of him was able to forgive or even look past Sansa's betrayal, she was really the only family he had left. Even still there was no way in all the seven hells he would ever allow her to see this note.

"So what are you going to do?" Tormund asked. Jon sat there for a moment and pondered his thoughts, he didn't know what to do. Who would? He killed her and she killed thousands of innocents, it wasn't like either could really forgive the other so easily. Jon rose from his seat and headed out of his hut to look over the horizon. The clouds had cleared that day and allowed the sun to glimmer over the beautiful bay.

The sight reminded him of Dragonstone, when he would sit along the cliffside and observe the dragons flying over Blackwater Bay. Sometimes he'd watch from his chambers as Daenerys flew atop Drogon with her other two children. "Do you have any input?" Jon asked to Tormund who was now standing at his side.

"I think you need to go," Tormund said. "Even if she's still the mad woman she apparently became, even if she'll kill you as soon as she sees you. You will regret it for the rest of your life if your brother kills her and you never got to see her again and to be honest, you're miserable enough as it is."

Jon tilted his head back, shutting his eyes closed and letting out an exasperated sigh. Did he really have it inside of him to see her face. Would it help to see her face again, would she be the Dany he fell in love with. Or would it break him even more if she had become even more far gone. The odds of him being miserable if he stayed outweighed the odds of him being miserable if he went.

"I need a horse," Jon said. Tormund gave him a nod as he descended the hill and Jon changed into his Stark clothes so he wouldn't appear a deserter if he was seen.

Once Jon had changed he descended the hill to meet with Tormund. "How do you plan to get there?" Tormund asked.

"My brother will have quickly realized that Sansa didn't receive the message and will have sent a rider. The rider will most likely arrive at Winterfell by the time I arrive at the destroyed Eastwatch. Once I arrive at White Harbor men will most likely be on their way across the Narrow Sea and I'll board one of the ships."

"Sounds fun," Tormund shrugged.

Ghost joined them and looked ready to join Jon on his journey. But sadly as much as he wanted to, Jon couldn't bring Ghost with him. "Ghost you need to stay here, you're a dead giveaway to who I really am and I must be sure that nobody knows," he said whilst he stroked the top of Ghost's head.

He seemed to understand what Jon wanted, his body relaxed and he took a step back to sit down. He gave Tormund a tight hug, "Hope you find peace somehow," Tormund said into his shoulder.

"Might be back soon," Jon said.

Jon packed enough food and ale for the journey ahead before he took off on his horse towards what was left of Eastwatch, towards White Harbor, towards Essos, towards Daenerys.

DAENERYS

Another attempt to summon Drogon amounted to absolutely nothing. Drogon once again didn't appear in the sky and she once again returned to the temple of light without seeing her child once again. The halls were still illuminated in the night and the flames glowed brighter in the temple.

As she passed Kinvara's door she once again saw her staring into the flames, it seemed to be what she did the most. She knocked once more and Kinvara turned to bid her enter. Daenerys didn't waste time with pleasantries but jumped immediately to her reason for being there. "Am I mad?" she asked.

Kinvara didn't look the least bit shocked by the question but seemingly expected it, "You were," she said. "Your coin was forced to one side, now it has been flipped again and you have been granted a second chance."

Daenerys wasn't one to doubt herself and yet here she was doubting herself. What if she went mad again, what if she's hopeless and she's doomed to the same fate. She has no one to turn to for comfort, that's what pushed her in her previous life.

No, she was given a second chance at life and like hell was she going to waste it. She was going to forget her old life and everyone she left behind with it. Tyrion, Grey Worm, Missandei, Jorah, Jon. She's not Daenerys Stormborn anymore because the world doesn't need the Mother of Dragons. The world doesn't need her to be anything. She would just be a woman who would live her content, simple life in her simple house. Maybe she'd even paint the door red. Plant a lemon tree outside her window.

SANSA

When Jon had left he'd been acting strangely. She knew he was hiding something, she'd learnt to recognize that. She felt compelled to ask what it was he was hiding but decided against it. She desperately wanted things to be back to the way things were between them after they took back Winterfell from the Boltons. They would probably never be as close as they were then but they could get a little bit closer than they are now.

She was eating alone as she normally did in the Great Hall. It's funny. When she took back Winterfell after being so alone in King's Landing she thought she'd be happy. Initially when it was just her and Jon she thought that she could at least find some semblance of the old family she had with him. They'd eat together every night and reminisce about everything that happened before their lives went to shit.

Then when he left for Dragonstone she ate alone again until Bran showed up. She thought that maybe now that Bran was there and Jon would soon be as well that it could really start feeling like the old times. But she soon realized that Bran wasn't Bran anymore. Not even close to what he was before. And she was still alone.

When Arya returned she was so incredibly happy to see her. While there were remnants of the young joyous little girl she was when they parted ways she was now also a cold-hearted killer. But she finally felt less alone.

Then Jon returned and they all finally had a family meal together before the grand battle against the White Walkers. She finally felt like she had her family back, that she could feel at home in this strange place she used to call home. But now Bran is King and remains in King's Landing. Arya sailed west to only the gods know where. And Jon is banished to live beyond the wall, only able to visit once every few moonturns.

Her depressing thoughts were interrupted by one of her men entering the great hall. "Your grace," he said. "A rider in the night." He handed her a scroll with the crowned direwolf sigil on it meaning it was from King's Landing. When she finished reading she immediately dropped the letter and attempted not to throw up. _No. How..._

_Queen in the North, Sansa I Stark_

_My first message was not received due to our brother._

_I command you to send your bannermen to Myr to meet with mine._

_Daenerys Targaryen is alive._

_King Brandon I Stark_

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

SANSA

She sits there absorbing the information of the letter. She's barely able to breath after what she just heard. We're all going to die. This is it, it's over. Nobody can save us. She squeezes her eyes shut and allows tears run down her face and the thought slips that this is her partly her fault. I wanted people to betray her. Why couldn't I just leave well enough alone. Why couldn't I just try to like her.

When she finally opened her eyes she wasn't alone in the great hall anymore. She was in a black void with nothing in sight. She looks around frantically attempting to discern where she is when Bran suddenly appears before her. "Bran, is it true?" she says quickly.

Everything around her moves and she's brought to a city she'd never seen before. "Volantis," Bran says. He's focused on something specific, Sansa turns her gaze to see the unmistakable face of Daenerys Targaryen. She appeared to be singing songs to poor children in the streets. She turned and saw Bran had taken a seat in the circle and motioned for Sansa to join him.

"Is this happening now?" she asked.

"It is," Bran answered.

"She doesn't seem mad right now. Perhaps if we leave her no harm will befall us," Sansa wanted her to pay. She wanted her to pay for the thousands of lives she took in King's Landing but she couldn't be stupid. That dragon could burn down the entire world and as of right now Sansa preferred being alive.

If a dagger in the heart couldn't kill her then what could?

"Every time a Targaryen is born the gods flip a coin and the whole world holds their breath," Bran said.

"Yes I know the phrase."

"She has been born once again and her coin has been flipped once again. Her future is uncertain and far too uncertain for my liking."

Bran suddenly brought them to a high mountain top where they could overlook the terrain. But when Sansa looked all she saw was a giant black shadow of ash stretched across the land. No trees, no castles, no people. Just black. "If the coin lands on the wrong side, the result will be far more catastrophic than before. We can't take that chance Sansa."

She could barely breathe at the sight of the land covered in black. A horrifying thought crossed her mind. "Where are we?" she asked.

"The North," Bran answered as he pointed to the terrain she was able to recognize the shape of. "That is Winterfell."

But there was no Winterfell, just flat ground.

"I failed to warn the people of Daenerys for my own selfish reasons and it resulted in the deaths of hundreds of thousands. I will not fail again," Bran said with the slightest hint of emotion that she hadn't sensed in a long time.

Sansa feared what would happen were Daenerys to survive an attack but she knew she couldn't bear this future. "How many men do you need?"

"No more than three ships, we can't send an entire army to Essos and risk sending the wrong message. There are still many loyal to Daenerys there," Bran answered. "They should be disguised as simple traders and nothing more."

Sansa nodded. "Ok, take me out of this vision and I'll begin preparations."

She was suddenly flung back into the great hall and immediately rose from her seat to begin preparations. When she left the great hall another more dreadful thought crossed her mind. _Jon won't forgive me a second time._

TYRION

The past few days had been terrifying, the realization that Daenerys was alive had kept him awake every night and completely incapable of doing his job. His King had informed him as much about the whereabouts and activities of his former Queen.

They knew that she resided in Volantis and that she was attempting to be kind and gentle woman she once was. He didn't know why but deep down he still loved his Queen and didn't want to see her killed if she had changed upon rebirth.

He found the King in the throne room, staring at where the throne used to reside. The throne room had gone under immense change since the Battle of King's Landing. The destruction was too great and thus it had been reconstructed into an open area currently not being used for anything.

"Your grace," Tyrion announced his presence even though it was completely unnecessary. Bran always knew who was approaching him. "I wanted to speak to you about-"

"About not sending men to kill Daenerys Targaryen," Bran interrupted Tyrion. Of course he knew what he was going to say.

"If what you say is true, that she is currently living a peaceful existence then why can we not just leave her be?"

"Because for the first time in my existence I am unsure about the future," Bran said with just the slightest hint of fear in his voice but for the most part he remained as unemotional as ever. "I fear the possible future my Lord Hand and I will do what I must to prevent it."

"But what if these actions are what will cause her to revert back into madness? How are you expecting our men to kill Daenerys with Drogon watching over her?"

"Drogon is preoccupied at the moment, he can't help her."

"Your grace I urge you to think through your decision before-"

"My decision has been thought through Lord Tyrion. Your King has commanded you to send men to Essos, now carry out my orders," Bran said as he turned back to stare at the place of the former throne.

JON

He rode for days, only stopping to hunt and eat and sleep when he absolutely needed to. He spent days pondering what he was supposed to say when he saw her. Would she even listen? Will I be murdered the moment I show my face? Is she still mad?

Jon finally saw the large city of White Harbor, the Manderly merman holding a trident being on full display in a statue in the middle of the square.

Once Jon is in the town he immediately throws his hood over his head, not wanting to be recognized by anyone. Once he reaches the port he notes that the ship seems unoccupied at the moment and decides he has enough time for a drink.

Finding a local tavern he decides he heads directly to the bar for a drink. While most of his face is hidden many of the women still eyed him up and down when he entered. He sat down, pulling out some coppers he stole on his way to the city.

"What'll it be?" the women tending the bar asks while leaning a little too close for comfort.

"Ale," Jon answered quickly while keeping his head down.

She moves behind her to the many bottles lining the shelves. She found the ale and poured Jon his horn, "That'll be three coppers sir."

Jon pays and tries to ignore the leering gazes he receives from the women while drinking in silence. From the other side of the bar he hears the drunken laughter of multiple men, dressed in Northern attire. "One more drink before you leave," one of the soldiers said.

"Wait he's leaving with the new men?"

"Right, he gets a front row seat to see them getting burned alive!" another drunkenly laughed. All the men seemed incredibly drunk. The one who was leaving was chugging a huge horn of ale while the others egged him on. He finished, slamming the horn on the ground while the others gathered around the table cheered.

"You met any of them?"

"Of course I haven't," the man spoke as he cringed from the huge amount of ale he'd just stomached. "Who gives a fuck about who they are they'll all be dead the moment we reach Volantis." Jon felt sick and hoped that these men didn't fight beside him on the field, they weren't honourable in the slightest and the North was supposed to pride themselves on their honour.

"You're taking Mona with you, aye?"

"Of course, to keep all the poor lads on the ship awake all night!" the all erupted into howling laughter while they all started pulling women in the bar onto their laps. The man who was to leave that same day left the comfort of his companions to go into the back alley to take a piss.

Jon knew he was his way to Daenerys. He quickly gulped down the rest of his ale and followed the man into the back alley. When he stepped into the alley instead of taking his piss he attempted to silently pull out his dagger which Jon easily noticed. The man turned around to stab Jon in the face which Jon quickly blocked.

His hood shifted and fell off his head revealing his face, "Jon Snow?" the man questioned as his grip on the dagger loosened. In his confusion Jon took advantage of the situation and gave the man a hard punch to the face, knocking him down to the ground. When he tried to rise Jon stomped on his head, knocking him unconscious.

He used some rope he brought along with him to tie him up and gag him while he stole his clothes which were just a tad bit too large and headed towards the port.

When he arrived he found a group of men loading the ship with crates and supplies. When he approached them one of the men instantly approached him and offered his hand which Jon immediately shook. "Are you to be leading us Ser?" he asked.

"I am," Jon replied.

"May me and the lads have your name?" he asked. He seemed nervous, clearly he was a new soldier which greatly worked in Jon's favour.

Jon thought for a moment but tried not to take too long. He obviously couldn't be Jon Snow. "I'm... Jeor."

"Pleasure Ser Jeor, I'm Grennan."

The name struck Jon and it reminded him of his old friend at the wall Grenn. He missed his old friends, he never saw any of them anymore and had to settle for only ever seeing Sansa.

He already liked this man which was a shame because he would most likely have to kill him.


End file.
